


Fun with Fauns, Tails, and Turtlenecks

by lonelyparts



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Faun!Charles, Fauns & Satyrs, M/M, Mating Nonsense, Mythological Creatures Modern AU, Satyr!Erik, aka horny goatmen ahem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1473340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is (purposefully) distracting, Charles has trouble with teacups, Hank wishes brain-bleach existed, and Logan saves the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fun with Fauns, Tails, and Turtlenecks

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to dear [issabella](http://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella)

Erik added a little shimmy to his hips as he walks by the open office, and an extra stomp or two to highlight his strong legs and shiny, reddish brown coat. He'd spent a long time this morning neatening it down to its present state of maximal gleam and health, offset quite adequately by his favourite black turtleneck. 

Eyes fixed ahead, Erik hid a smirk when he heard the sad melody of breaking porcelain and the garbled curses that followed. The lost hours spent fussing in his tiny bathroom, polishing his curved horns, despairing the perpetual curl in his hair, paid off in on fell and tea soaked swoop. He allowed himself a tail-swish of triumph as he continued towards his own office. A crash, thuds, more curses, and then the clatter of hooves on the pursuit.

"Erik!"

Hiding another instinctive smile, Erik made a show of riffling through his shoulder bag by his office door.

"Yes, Charles?"

Erik settled his face into to his typical moue of bored indifference, looked up once Charles shuffled closer, leaving a polite distance between them. Even so, Charles' scent, with its musk and rich pheromones wafted across the breach, and set off too many reactions for Erik's liking at the moment. He fought valiantly against an impending blush, fingers closing around his keys, as Charles prattled on. 

"Erik! Good morning, how are you?" Charles beamed at Erik, and fixed him with an intense, heavy look, at odds with his cheerfully frazzled appearance, tufty ears flittering, wave-y hair pleasantly ruffled. Settling in by the door, Charles crossed his arms over his chest, and Erik's broke away from the too-searing gaze, eyes flickering down to take in Charles' muscles shifting under white fabric.

"Fine." Erik demurred, tone even, free of breathiness, despite his speeding heart, and the distracted haze curling over his senses. A brief wave of giddy panic welled up and was subsequently squashed. Clearly he'd miscalculated, Charles free of his frumpy cardigans was an unexpected variable he'd failed to account for. He could play it cool.

"And how are you, Charles?" Erik opened his office door, and walked to his desk, dropping off his books and bag, turning his computer on, all in quick succession to stave off his twitchiness.

"Well, spring is on its way," Charles followed him in, light, cheerful voice and heavy scent filling up Erik's cramped office space, driving Erik to fumble with his files and flush - playing cool, right.

"As I'm sure you've noticed, everybody's a little...restless." 

Charles had followed him to his desk and, Erik noticed a tad too late, herded him in, orderly bookshelves to his back, desk by his side. This close, Erik could memorize the impossible blue of Charles' eyes, count the smattering of freckles bridging his nose, and stare his fill of those red, curved lips he'd been mooning over for months. Could, but he had other pressing matters to attend to first. It'd been weeks.

"Wouldn't y-" Erik's lunge caught Charles mid-sentence and he took advantage of the open mouth, kissing him deep, their lips and teeth catching over the wet scrape of tongue. Moving quick, Charles pulled him close by his hips, Erik's moan swallowed up in the frenzy of kisses as one hand straying down to rub at the nub of nerves above Erik's tail. Erik gasped through the kiss, his spine curved up, hips jolting into Charles', hipbones cushioned by their soft coats. He breathed in shallow inhales, their pheromones coiling together in a dizzyingly mix, scattering his thoughts, as he let his hands run through Charles' hair, fingers feeling around his smaller, pointier horns.

Charles broke the kiss on a groan, "Oh that's not fair, darling-" he gulped, shuddering breaths under Erik's jaw, and Erik lifted his chin up further, biting off moans as Charles rubbed his face into his neck. "Not fair at all," between a kiss and the next, "weeks and weeks of- darling, please tell me we can-" he groaned when Erik spread his legs to let Charles fall between them, the motion backing him into unexpectedly sharp shelves and book-spines. Erik hissed at the discomfort, pain cutting a small spike through his arousal, arching his back away. Stilling, Charles kissed his cheek in apology when he noticed the problem, "Shall we take this to the desk?" 

Erik snorted, moving along, Charles herding him towards the desk, and had his laugh promptly snuffed out by a moan, Charles' wandering fingers slipping under his tail cleverly timed with the brief shock of teeth against a nipple, Charles rucking up his turtleneck further.

"Hush you," he murmured, licking at the hardening nipple under his mouth, scraping a fingernail around the other as Erik trembled. With a parting lick, Charles moved back up, claiming lips and Erik sunk his weight into Charles, broke the kiss to clutch at his shoulders, shuddering as Charles' fingers circled around his slick entrance.

"Already, hrm?" Charles kissed under his jaw, and rolled his hips up, groaning as Erik met the motion, matted fur rubbing against his unsheathed length. He slipped in one finger then the next, slow and keeping pace, breathed in deep at Erik's neck as he let out soft, breathless gasps in time with Charles' fingers, his own hitching hips.

"Charles-" he pulled back, shaky arms pushing at Charles' shoulders, and bit his lip at the loss, clenching on nothing, Charles' fingers slipping back out, "Charles, please." He turned around, knees unsteady, and leaning over his desk, buried his face in his arms, mad blush burning against his skin. "Please." Bit his tongue harder, as shudders raced along his spine, his tail curling down, tense, and he felt slick trickle past. Then arched his spine, moaned at the feel of Charles' touch, chest rubbing into the cool surface below, following Charles' hand through its soothing rub, from the nape of his neck and down, shudders subsiding.

"I've got you, Erik," Charles leaned in, a kiss to his flushed shoulder before Erik's tail was lifted gently out of the way, and Erik blushed, bit into the flesh of his arm while Charles slid two fingers in easy, three, to slick, wet sounds. "Charles!"

"Alright, patience love," Erik's hips twitched, his heavy length pulsing at Charles' drawn out moan, the quick, muffled sounds of Charles slicking himself up. Impatient, Erik pushed, wanting Charles in him (yesterday!) but Charles gripped Erik's tail tighter, stilling him. Erik whimpered, close to stamping his hooves, rocking his hips fitfully.

"Almost," Charles promised, voice tight, grasping Erik's hip with one hand, and finally, finally! moved in, just the tip but Erik was having none of it. He shook his head to knock away some of the haze, lifting himself to his elbows and once steadied, snapped his hips back, and again, smirking at Charles' choked off moans. Until Charles retaliated with a hand snaking over to Erik's front, teasing the fur along the way, Erik gasping into the table. "What did I say, darling? Patience, please," Charles admonished, gripping him tight and inched in, slow and steady, and Erik could only shudder and moan, pinned under Charles' weight, his pleased murmurs and groans. 

-

"Charles, I wanted to show you th-" Hank looked up from the papers clutched in his hands, when Charles failed to launch into his usual spiel about knocking and calling first.

"Charles?"

The chaos of Charles' desk afforded no immediate answers as to its owner's apparent disappearance, save for the broken porcelain cup and stains drying on important looking papers. 

Hank checked behind the door and there was Charles' lab coat, ruling out impromptu lab time, and Charles' bag hung there too, no early escape from work then.

Hank's forelegs stamped nervously about; he really needed Charles to okay these results, their deadline was looming, and so was- Hank coughed, adjusting his glasses - the madness of spring. Time in short supply and much work to be done, and yet, no Charles. Sighing, he decided, he'd wait a few more minutes then check with Armando, maybe he'd seen Charles pass by earlier.

The porcelain pieces called back his attention. He started at them, and decided he had to act. Charles would forgive him for 'messing with his system', as he put it, when it really was a matter of keeping things hygienic. They'd call the biohazard team on Charles one day when someone who wasn't an ally finally stumbled upon the forest of teacups in his desk drawers, patiently incubating the next plague. Hank swept the pieces and shards into the dustbin and neatened up the loose papers, collecting pens with missing - or chewed up, Hank grimaced - caps to one side, and was about to attack the thousands of loose paperclips when he heard a peculiar noise.

Hank listened close and there it was again. A shout? He moved towards the door and out into the deserted (strange for a Wednesday morning) hallway, heard the sound again, clearer here. He walked, hooves making barely a sound, and followed the muffled shouts - groans? - to their likely point of origin, a closed office. Hank looked to the nameplate, and grew pallid, nearly tripping over all four legs as he scrambled back. Professor Lehnsherr's office, but why-

"Wouldn’t go there if I were you, bub," Logan clopped by, unicorn horn sparkling iridescent as he nodding at the door. Hank was about to ask why, when the noise reached his ears once more and this time, Hank recognized it was for what it was, and more precisely, whom it belonged to. And subsequently felt his cheeks burst into flames.

"Yup, lots of mating going on in there, better join the others hiding in the cafeteria," he swished his white, flowy tail, waiting as Hank uncoiled from his embarrassed huddle, "we're throwing a party in honour of the merry pair, Armando won the bet, owe the bastard 20 bucks, fuckers couldn't've waited a week longer could they." Logan sighed, resuming his amble as Hank skittered along beside him, cringing at every moan reverberating down the hallway.


End file.
